Hall of Fame coach, commanding Temple leader, dies
PHILADELPHIA — John Chaney, one of the nation’s leading basketball coaches and a commanding figure during a Hall of Fame career at Temple, died Friday. He was 89.
The university said he died after a short, unspecified illness. He celebrated his birthday last week.
Chaney led Temple to 17 NCAA Tournament appearances over 24 seasons, including five NCAA regional finals. Chaney had 741 wins as a college coach. He was twice named national coach of the year and his teams at Temple won six Atlantic 10 conference titles.
He became a de facto father to dozens of his players, many coming to Temple from broken homes, violent upbringings and bad schools. He often said his biggest goal was simply to give poor kids a chance to get an education.
“Coach Chaney was like a father to me,” said Temple coach Aaron McKie, who played for Chaney. “He taught not just me, but all of his players more than just how to succeed in basketball. He taught us life lessons to make us better individuals off the court. I owe so much to him. He made me the man I am today.”
Chaney was an imposing presence on the court — restless, cranky, his otherwise natty clothes in shambles by the end of the game. Often, as
he exhorted his team, he put himself in situations he later regretted. He was known for a fiery temper — sending a player into a 2005 game to commit hard fouls. Chaney served a suspension and apologized.
In 1994, he had a heated exchange following a game against UMass in which he threatened to kill coach
John Calipari. Chaney apologized and was suspended for a game. The two later became friends.
In 1984, Chaney grabbed George Washington coach Gerry Gimelstob by the shoulders at halftime during a game.
Chaney, whose deep, dark eyes seemed fitting for a school whose
mascot is the Owl, was intense on the sidelines. His loud, booming voice could be heard across an arena, and his near-perfect designer clothes were in shambles after most games. After an especially bad call, he would stare down referees. He once gazed at a referee for an entire timeout with a look he dubbed the “One-Eyed Jack.”
Though he seemed permanently cranky, especially during games, Chaney was often tender and funny. He loved telling stories. His postgame news conferences were sometimes more entertaining than the games that preceded them. His retirement news conference in March 2006 wasn’t about hoops but about education’s role in helping the poor and disadvantaged. They included amusing anecdotes, pokes at the school administration and playful threats to slap the mayor.
After losing to Michigan State in his last trip to the NCAA regional finals, in 2001, he was the same old John Chaney — with water-filled eyes, wearing a tie torn open at the collar and waxing poetic about another missed chance at the Final Four.
“It is something we all dream about, but very often dreams come up short,” he said. “Very often you don’t realize everything. But you have to realize that the growth you see in youngsters like these is probably the highest accomplishment you can reach.”
Temple’s style of play under Chaney’s guidance was never as pretty as that of Duke or North Carolina. Slow, patient and disciplined, his best teams rarely made errors, rarely turned the ball over and always played tough defense. Chaney was simply fearless in all aspects of his work.